


Ruin

by KadeAK (zacixn)



Series: The Tides of War (Dream SMP Season One) [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Election Results, Exile, Gen, HE DOESNT DIE but he like thinks about potentially needing to sacrifice himself, I know it's only been three hours since stream. I have no life. I am in ruin over these block men., IRL AU, No Respawn AU, On the Run, Schlatt is only mentioned, Tommy only appears in chat, Wilbur Fucking Dies Poggers /j
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacixn/pseuds/KadeAK
Summary: The election had been going so smoothly. Wilbur's words had always been his greatest asset, after all. The ballots had been tipped in his party's favour ever since it had even been formed.They were war veterans. They were L'Manburg's heroes. They'd paved the nation from the ground up, literally laying their lives on the line to save its people from a power-hungry dictator.Now, a power-hungry dictator held the reigns of the nation, and the nation was crumbling.---Sent into exile by Schlatt and his leading party, Wilbur flees from the nation he helped create.[This work is a standalone oneshot, despite it being in a series.]
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: The Tides of War (Dream SMP Season One) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909273
Comments: 15
Kudos: 122





	Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> anyone else crying so hard after the election results stream
> 
> [10/10/2020] Edit : Some of these lines really hit differently after the most recent stream, huh?

["I hereby declare that Tommy Innit and Wilbur Soot are hereby exiled from my land. Men, chase them out."]

Wilbur had lost sight of Tommy long ago, but he kept running anyway. The earth was wet and muddy under his boots, and the ex-President stumbled in his hasty attempts to escape, wincing as the strain aggravated his sustained injuries.  
The L'Manburg warriors were still hot on his tail, ready to kill him if he didn't keep out of their range; he could hear them taunting in the distance, see their torches lit and raised in the air. They must have split into two teams to follow the two targets - Wilbur hoped and prayed that Tommy was okay, wherever he happened to be. He was just a child, even if he was battle torn. Tommy didn't deserve to die because of Wilbur's hubris.

The chase was so sudden, Wilbur could barely comprehend what was going on. One moment, he was conceding his presidency to his friend and old ally, the next he was on the business end of a crossbow, being threatened with death. War flashbacks'd clouded his mind before Tommy had yanked him out of there, and then they were running, running as fast as possible. Who was even chasing them? He couldn't tell in the chaos, a blur of red and gray and brown overtaking his vision as he fled from the men he'd once led to victory.  
It would be funny how fast they'd turned on him for a new leader, if it wasn't so fucking depressing.

Pulling himself back to his feet, the president kept going, rain whipping at his figure as he struggled through the forest. His muscles screamed in pain, and his shoulder hurt from where he'd barely dodged arrow fire, but he had to keep going.  
Could he keep going? Was he going to die here, alone and disgraced? For a moment too long, Wilbur entertained the idea of giving up - if he didn't have L'Manburg, what was the point? He'd forged that land with his own sweat, blood, and tears, and then he'd slaved day and night to keep it going. 

The election had been going so smoothly. Wilbur's words had always been his greatest asset, after all. The ballots had been tipped in his party's favour ever since it had even been formed.  
They were war veterans. They were L'Manburg's heroes. They'd paved the nation from the ground up, literally laying their lives on the line to save its people from a power-hungry dictator.  
Now, a power-hungry dictator held the reigns of the nation, and the nation was crumbling.  
Did Schlatt know just how much Wilbur had done for L'Manburg? What made Schlatt of all people fit to lead a land he hadn't even known about before a week ago? 

Wilbur could still hear the man's maniacal laughter even from where he hid, the echoed cackles sending shivers down his spine. Months ago, they'd been friends. Even best friends, at one point. A jabbing pain shot through Wilbur's shoulder as he accidentally bumped it against a tree, and he realised with a hazy mind that an arrow was still sticking out of it. Gritting his teeth, he yanked it out, dropping it to the floor hastily - it had been enchanted with flame. Schlatt had fired that arrow, probably. He must have aimed to kill, but missed his vitals just barely. Wilbur opted not to think about how close he was to death.

Pressing onwards despite the now open wound, the ex-president proceeded towards the borders of L'Manburg. He'd set these borders up himself, overseen the scouting missions required to place them down. It felt wrong to be escaping past them, out into the wilderness, past the place he'd once called home. It was nothing special, just a fence. They'd planned on making it fancier - now they never would. L'Manburg would remain his unfinished symphony. A pain shot through his chest as he realised he may never be the same man again. Maybe old Wilbur had already died, left cold in the dirt at the election results, shot to death by that stray flame arrow shot.

Even with his injury and exhaustion, vaulting the fence was easy. The voices of his pursuers seemed to fade into the distance, but Wilbur couldn't tell if that was because they were further away, or because he was losing blood at an alarming pace. In his pocket, his communicator pinged faintly - with a shaky grip, Wilbur pulled it out to see Tommy typing at him at breakneck speeds. He sounded distressed, typing style chaotic and messy. Rain and blood spattered against the screen as Wilbur read over the messages.

[TommyInnit]: wilbur r u aliev  
[TommyInnit]: plz respnd asap  
[TommyInnit]: in hiding  
[TommyInnit]: in wild plz respomd

The messages were hasty, and barely made sense, but it looked like Tommy had escaped his pursuers as well. With fumbling hands, the ex-president moved to type a reply, his fingers smearing the blood that had dribbled onto the screen into filthy red fingerprints.

[WilburSoot]: share your location with me. i'm coming.

The resulting ping with the relevant coordinates was almost instantaneous. Wilbur let out a sigh of relief as he realised Tommy wasn't far, holed up a little walk away from L'Manburg's border end. He felt like crying, but no tears came out - instead, he picked himself up, turning in the direction of his right hand man.

L'Manburg had fallen, but Tommy needed his help. Even if his nation turned his back on his contribution to their society, he would never turn his back on them. Wilbur had built L'Manburg once against improbable odds, and Schlatt be damned, he'd do it again. Even if this time, building the nation would require his own ultimate sacrifice.  
(Wilbur elected not to think about just how likely that situation may be.)

**Author's Note:**

> Never forget L'Manburg. Have faith that Wilbur, Tommy, and Techno will restore it. Viva la revolution. God save Pogtopia. o7


End file.
